The Ginny Chronicles
by Brone
Summary: Everyone's been through it or will; Ginny's turned 15 and has decided it's time for a change; but no-one rises until they've fallen a few times.
1. Entry One

Ah, the delights of my wicked mind...  
  
I hope everybody enjoys this-it originated as a ficlet on a piece of paper when I was at Mo Ranch (camp) last year...My friend Abby and I just came up with this first chapter at around 2am and I decided to post it, seeing as I like the concept.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
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Dear Journal, I am finally fourteen, yesterday actually. Fred and George have been teasing me about pimples; a new invention, Pimple Pastries, are now on the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes market. I am extremely insulted; after all, its not as if I need them. On top of my already rather crappy life, they DO NOT need to bug me about my appearance. I'm mid-way through applying some blue eye shadow, a birthday present along with this journal. I have to go now, Harry will be here soon! --Ginny Ginny flipped the covers of her journal closed, carefully instituting every locking charm she knew. One had to be careful with Fred and George running around. She glanced at the clock anxiously; it was 1:00, and Harry was coming at 3:00, which left only two hours to get completely ready. Everything had to be perfect. Something was due to change, as far a Ginny was concerned, for once, she felt like she had a real chance to snag Harry, or at least get to know him better. She took a quick 20 minute shower, an all time fast record, before moving on to the ever challenging hair, make-up and clothes. She finally chose a pair of hip-hugging muggle blue jeans, and her favorite shirt; a black tank that said, "Barty's Fish and Chips, Best in Town!" (which, by the way, was on Mrs. Weasley's list for disapproval) For make-up, she did, what she liked to call, natural: moderately light blush and eyeshadow, coupled with the heavy application of black mascara. She just brushed her hair straight, making it reach her chin. Finally, 1 hour and 56 minutes later, she was ready, almost. The only point of, in Ginny's hearty opinion, her flawless outfit, was the problem of choosing the right jewelry to accent it all. She walked over to her dresser and opened a wooden box sitting on her dresser. When she opened it, a squeaky, rusty ballerina, that had originally been accompanied by music, spun around as she searched through her vast selection. Rings, necklaces and bracelets. Many of the articles were from children's parties' long since forgotten, and they filled the once brightly painted box. After 10 minutes of deliberation between her summery hemp and cowry choker and her favorite charm bracelet, she finally chose the hemp. Coincidentally, each of the Weasley's many clocks struck three o'clock and there was the tell-tale whooshing sound of someone coming out of the fire in the kitchen. It could only mean one thing: Harry had arrived. 


	2. Wheezes

I love random stories...  
  
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In a fit of excitement, Ginny squealed and stuck her head out of her bedroom door, her neck craning around for more visual candy (i.e. Harry).  
  
Choruses of "Hello, mate!" and "Oh, Harry, dear," fought to be heard beneath Ginny's roost; small, electric shivers bounded around in her stomach and throat as she stepped out of her doorway.  
  
Before her, on the floor, was a small piece of scrunched paper, which was, for the Burrow, a fairly common sight. Ignoring her obsessive cleaning urge, Ginny stepped on the paper, flattening it. It was indeed a mistake to do so.  
  
Upon the applied pressure of her foot, the paper emitted a shrill shriek before unloading several rounds of fire-cracker noises and sparks.  
  
Ginny made a sound that even she did not recognise; it was a mixture of a grunt and a yell, and all other sound in the Burrow stopped as her bellowing reverberated through the house.  
  
Still yelling and completely out of control, Ginny dived headfirst down the stairs, the wood making a groaning sound as she landed near the bottom. Without any means of stopping, she continued rolling in a cannonball shape until her head met with something hard and flat.  
  
The room stayed silent as Ginny warily opened her eyes.  
  
A crowd of blurry faces huddled over her as someone spoke for the first time since her incredible yell.  
  
"Hi, Ginny."  
  
The voice was incredibly familiar, too familiar.  
  
Ginny strained to focus her eyes.  
  
"Step aside, step aside, boys!" Mrs. Weasley's voice said as her pear- shaped figure loomed over Ginny's head.  
A burst of obnoxious laughter echoed in Ginny's head.  
  
"Got you that time, Vi!" one voice said, pausing from laughing.  
  
"You two boys are absolute devils! Just wait until your father gets home!" Ginny's mother yelled at the slowly focusing Fred and George, who were turning beet red from laughing so hard.  
  
"She could be hurt!" she added, coddling Ginny's head to her bosom.  
  
Ginny blinked and the fuzzy images were beginning to become clearer; Harry and Ron stood at her head, and Bill was leaning against the doorframe, shaking his head as a smile crept over his face.  
  
"At least we can pay the hospital bill with our new, improved, family- tested product!" George called from he and his brother's room as their door closed.  
  
Dizzy from the roll, Ginny struggled to stand as she braced herself with one hand. A huge lump was beginning to rise on the right side of her forehead, and Mrs. Weasley scampered out of the kitchen and eating area holding a wet cloth in one hand and her wand in the other.  
  
"Happy birthday." Harry said in a confused and shy voice as he handed Ginny a rectangular wrapped present.  
  
More laughter was coming from the twins' room and Mr. Weasley's car had just pulled-up outside as Ginny daintily tore at the gift-wrapping. 


End file.
